


You Get My Teen Heart Beating Faster, Faster

by killjoy_cherrydust



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Fluff, Gay Panic, High School AU, M/M, Ryden, brendon has gay thoughts a lot, ryan has anxiety in this, ryden fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-04 23:19:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18353789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killjoy_cherrydust/pseuds/killjoy_cherrydust
Summary: George Ryan Ross III, or simply known as Ross around school. He was the weird shy kid who always wore the same black baggy hoodie and who got detention for accidentally slamming a girls ponytail in his locker. Ryan wasn’t rude or mean, don't get him wrong, he was actually a really sweet guy once you got to know him. Though, nobody ever had the chance to know the true him. Most just stuck with the silent Ryan, very few got past the silence, and nobody got past his awkward layer… Before Brendon from 4th Period came along.





	1. Chapter 1

It was 2nd period, English class, Ryan’s least favorite. He hated English. Not because he was bad at it, in fact he was good at it, but because he had a little bit of a speaking issue. Stuttered words and stammering to find the right thing to say was part of Ryan’s daily routine in this class. In others like Science or Math, you didn’t have to talk. You could just sit in the back, do your work, and have nobody notice you. Even put in your earbuds for good measure. 

Today in particular was terrible, it was poem day. Everyone had to write a two-stanza poem over the weekend and read it to the class. Out loud. All those eyes staring at you. Judging you on how your voice sounds; If it cracks, a lisp, a slur in your ‘s’, something to laugh at. They always laugh. 

Ryan’s POV 

Oh god, it’s poem day. Of course it’s poem day! My piece of wrinkled notebook paper sitting on my desk. Sloppy writing that reads “Day and Night” by Ryan Ross. It was a stupid thing I wrote last night at like 2:30 am because I forgot to do it. Did I have a week to finish it? Yes. Did I procrastinate? Also yes. It certainly was not my best work. There are lots of spelling mistakes and some words I can’t decipher. But, hey, what can you do while running off of Monster energy and doing a shitty project?

 

I never included my first name or the III on my school papers, it made me think of my Dad. He wasn’t a terrible person per sey, he just wasn’t the best either. I wanted to be nothing like him; I wanted to be nice, open minded, sympathetic. All the things George Ryan Ross II wasn’t. People always called my Dad George, which I hate being called. 

So whenever there’s a sub or a new teacher, I have to correct them during attendance. “Um, it’s Ryan. Not..George..” I’d say stupidly. I was always so quiet and bashful, but I don’t know how to break out of my shell. What’s the point in that anyways? If you don’t talk, nobody can make fun of you or point out your flaws.

 

“Ryan? It’s your turn.” I hear the teacher call, derailing me from my thought train. A spark of nerves run up my spine, giving me goosebumps. I sluggishly grab my paper and inch my way towards the front of the room. My head glued to the floor and my paper slightly shaking from my hold. I feel the air in my lungs get trapped for a second before popping up into a hiccup. 

“My poem is called Day and… and Night-” I pause to have another bubble of air come from my lips. A couple kids giggle at that, a few snickers. 

“When the moon fell in love with the.. the sun, all was golden in the sky.” Good, that's a good start.

“All was golden when the d-day met the night.” Shit, I keep looking at everyone’s watching- No, judging eyes. Blue, brown, hazel, green, some a mix of colors. All on me. And their mouths turned up into smirks or smiles. Even Ms.Higa is smiling while she writes on my grading sheet. I’m probably going to fail, thanks mouth. You ruined yet another presentation. 

“Uh… D-um…” I sputter like a car with no gasoline. All the words dry up on my tongue, a hiccup coming out instead. No words. No fucking words. A bead of sweat runs down my heated neck, I can feel it.

“Do I try to continue? Do I just stop and sit down at my seat? Do I tell her that's all I have and get a low grade? Do I just run out?” I ramble to myself inside of my head, trying to form a plan. Anything to get me out of everyone's view. 

I feel my chest tighten like my Hot Topic skinny jeans. The hiccups are still there but they're more rapid and spiked, not giving me time to breathe in their air. Nothing is working out, oh god.

Ms.Higa tilts her head at me and points her pen towards the door.

“Why don’t you get a drink and then finish it later, Ryan?”

I nod thankfully and speed walk out of the classroom, high top sneakers squeaking against the tile. Behind me I hear a bunch of kids laughing and mocking me, Ms.Higa ordering them to settle down. 

I let out a breath of relief as the door clicks shut, as if signifying that I’m safe. At least, that’s what it feels like. 

“Nice one… Ryan; zip, Everyone else; probably a thousand.” 

 

Brendon’s POV

“Everybody, settle down. Spencer, you’re next.” Ms.Higa says. I wonder why that kid was all stuttery and hiccup-y. I feel kinda bad for him though. He seemed so nervous; Like this was his death penalty or something.

His name is Ryan, but everyone calls him Ross. I once heard someone call him George, but it was just a substitute teacher. I don’t know him that well, we barely speak. Actually no, I speak to him, he just nods or hums in response. He does have a pretty cool lip ring though. I always find myself staring at his lips…

I should probably go check on him. I don’t know why but there is a weird feeling in my stomach, it’s like an urge to see him again. Almost a worried feeling. Or...Or a panicked butterfly fluttering against my insides. 

I get up from my seat and head to the teacher’s desk. I whisper an excuse to her about having my paper in my backpack, besides me already presenting. She gives me a halfhearted nod, not paying much attention to me and more on Spencer. (His poem is about hitting a bird with a rock. I think it’s a type of metaphor.)

With a shrug I walk out, immediately looking around the halls for Ross.

Ryan’s POV

I bend down to the water fountain, holding the sides of the metal under my sweaty palms, lukewarm water running over my lips. The fountains at school were never cold, always warm. But it’s better than nothing. It runs down my dry throat smoothly and I feel a bit more calm after that whole fiasco. The hallway is quiet, tranquil. The only noise being from Mr.Sayings Science room, he was playing a movie of some sort. Hallways are never this quiet during passing period, so it feels nice. 

I let out a happy sigh and lean against a random locker. This time I’m not being shoved into it by Gerard Way, he’s a bit of a jerk to me. I look around myself, sliding my phone from my back pocket. I send a text to my best- well, only- friend, Jon Walker. 

“hey man, want to hang out after school? your place maybe?”

For a moment, the world stands still. And I wish it could be like this during every presentation I give, or whenever I try to talk to somebody. Most guys are freaked out when talking to girls, but for me it’s both, which is 2x the awkward. 

I hear footsteps approach suddenly… 

Brendon’s POV

I turn the corner into B Hallway, an  
d I see him. His black hoodie, brown fringe, shiny chocolate eyes and his silver lip ring on his pink lips. He’s shoving his phone into his back pocket and looking around himself cautiously. 

We make eye contact.

“Ross! Hey,” I smile at him, stepping closer. Ross gives me a small smile and a simple nod. Woah, he actually smiled. That's new…

I lean against the locker next to him, thumbs in my belt loops casually, trying to act chill. Ross puts his hands in his hoodie pockets, tapping his foot against the hall tile. 

“You okay, man? You were like a spaz up there!” I try to joke around, lighten him up. “You couldn't even speak!” 

He mumbles something quietly, then speaks up. “Just.. Nerves. I guess.” His voice is so much softer than I imagined. When he was in front of the class, it was raspy and dry.

“Yeah, you were speaking like this;” I pause to stand up, hands holding an imaginary paper. “U-U-Um…” I stutter out playfully. 

Ross bites his lip and gives me a sad expression. “He-Hey, I can't help it.” He says in an upset tone. 

“I know but it's hilarious! C'mon you gotta-” I stop myself before I push him too much. I think I may have went a little too far. Ross seems more fragile than his reputation depicts him.

I expected him to be cold, stereotypical emo, rude. But no, he was actually kinda soft, in a cute way (But like, a Friend-way cute. I’m not gay.) Maybe even delicate. Like Chip from that play the theatre kids put on a few months ago

“You gotta… Sit with me at lunch! Me, Dallon, Pete, Mikey, everybody.” I say after a long pause. Phew, saved it. I mentally let out a breath of relief. He raises an eyebrow at me and has a weird stare; Almost surprised. 

“Uh, Why? Nobody hangs out with me...really,” Ross says, I roll my eyes and scoff. “Come on dude, just for today. You seem cool enough!”

Ross smiles at that last comment, his pearly teeth showing slightly. The front left one has a teeny tiny chip in the corner, I notice. I also notice one of his eyes is a darker brown than the other. God, a little voice in my head is telling me that he looks adorab- NO. I am not gay, I am not into other boys, I do not want to do things with other boys. Never have, never will. My parents would drown me in holy water if I said I loved another boy even platonically, let alone romantically.

Not today, Brendon. No more gay thoughts.


	2. Confusion or Pity

Brendon’s POV

Me and Ross trade a smile before walking back into class together, his cheeks are dusted light pink. From embarrassment or something else, I don’t know. I could've sworn he mumbled a thank you, but he's very quiet. We sit back down at our desks, me on the opposite side of the room from everyone else since I tend to be very “disruptive” during class. Apparently me yelling “OH SHIT WHADDUP” and Spencer yelling “HERE COME THAT BOY” when we walk into class is disruptive. Teachers just don’t understand our culture. 

Only a few kids are left to present, not like I really care about listening. Poetry is boring and useless, all I cared about was getting a decent grade so my parents didn't murder me. Strangely I find my eyes drifting towards that familiar brown fringed boy. More importantly the way his eyes light up as he stares down at the book on his desk. I pay attention to the little things about him; Zoning out from the rest of the world. 

He mouths the words from the page, he bites his lip ring at the anticipating parts (Is what I assume by the very few words I can get from lip reading), his gaze dancing on the sentences… It makes that butterfly come back into my stomach when seeing him so happy and at peace for what had just happened merely 15 minutes ago. I hated seeing him all worked up like he was in the hallway, it wasn't cause I like him or anything! It's just pity.

That’s a totally normal thing for a friend- Well, an acquaintance rather- to feel towards another acquaintance. I want to become closer friends with him, not just a nod in the halls type deal. He seems so nice, sweet, charming, attract- STOP. What is with you today Brendon? I am acting really weird and not like myself… I've never felt like way about Spencer, or Pete or Mikey, maybe once for Dallon. What is it about Ross?!

I shake my head and break the trance that little twat sent me into. I know that sounds rude but I'm just angry and confused about the things he makes me feel! Adults always complain about how hard their lives are, but teenagers have it hard too! We have weird emotions, boring projects, jerks making comments and calling you names, it's a lot! 

I can feel that fuzzy feeling of before begin to fizzle into bubbles of emotions I cannot describe. Why the actual hell am I feeling these things for another boy? I'm not gay, really I'm not. Maybe I'm just confused like my Mother always says about gay people. “They're just confused, dear. They will find their way back to faith.” So maybe it isn't pity… But confusion?

“Urie! Let's go! Lunch break!” Pete shakes my shoulder since I seem to have zoned out again. I let out a quiet sigh, getting up from my seat. I follow Pete and the rest of the guys down the halls towards the lunchroom. I’m not paying attention to the conversation at hand (Apparently Mikey and Pete had their first kiss together?) or how loud the hallway is. Older kids slamming themselves into lockers for fun, terrified younger kids huddled into their groups for protection, nerds trading Magic the Gathering or Pokemon cards like it's the black market, and those kids who think they're somehow cool for vaping blowing the smoke into people's faces. 

What group am I in? The music kids, kinda. Me and all my friends play music and listen to Metallica, Misfits, Green Day, etc. So maybe the rocker kids would be a better name. We also get called the “F*gs” a lot too. Because yeah, most of us are in the LGBT, and paint our nails black, and wear womens jeans because they're tighter. But that isn't an excuse to use a slur like that. My Dad says it all the time and it pisses me off to no end.

I remember what my parents have told me many many times before. “Homosexuality is sin.”

I don’t think it is a sin, actually. It’s just love. So what if a guy wants to kiss a guy? It’s a person loving a person. Simple. My family says that being gay will send you to hell, and that if someone was gay, they were dealing with the devil. I call bullshit but whatever, Mormon things I guess.

We get to our usual lunch table, the one in between the vending machines and the recycling bin in the cafeteria. Since Freshman year we’ve sat here, and nobody ever switches tables. It’s a silent rule we all follow. Across from me is Pete, on my left is Spencer, across from him is Mikey, Dallon is next to Pete and everything is how it normally is. Our routine. Oh shit- I forgot Ross is sitting with us. So much for “routine”.

For now though, I push the thoughts of my feelings for Ross later, I can figure that out fully when I'm alone. I mean, what even is there to figure out? Just two guys, being friends, and one gets a weird feeling in his stomach. That’s all. There! Plain and simple. You know, maybe it isn’t as bad as I thought. I shouldn't have gotten pissed. All I have to do is stay calm, don’t think, go with my gut. 

“Bren...don?” The familiar hushed voice makes my neck snap into the direction it came from. Ross was now sitting next to me, fidgeting with the cap of his water bottle. The butterflies coming back to my insides and fluttering around. Damn, I've fallen head first for this kid and I don't know if I can get back up… Why was I even fussing about him? He’s like a puppy, you can’t get upset with him once you see that face. 

Ryan’s POV

The cap of my water twists back and forth between my fingers, my palms needing a purchase of something. I brush a strand of my fringe from my face, trying to keep my expression neutral. Don’t be too friendly, while not being too distant, and at the same time don’t be a blank slate. Easy… Not really, but I can do this. A really hot guy just invited me to sit with him and I cannot fuck this up. 

“Hi Ross,” Brendon’s expression seems to mellow out from the almost angry one he had before I said something. I wonder what had got him so mad in the first place. He points to a few guys sitting at the table, all looking insanely different from each other. “That’s Dallon, Pete, Mikey and Spencer.” I give a nod and a tiny wave, it’s friendly but distant, perfect. I get a round of greetings and waves from them. They seem nice! This is going better than I expected. 

Or so I thought. I never knew five teenage boys could be so loud and rowdy. (That sounded better in my head. Of course teenagers were loud. Even though I'm one of them, they still scare the shit out of me.) Loud is definitely not my style, I prefer quiet and civilized things. Like reading in the library, playing quiet bass cords in my room alone, watching the stars on the roof. That's what I want to do with Brendon… Though, I wouldn't be looking at stars; I'd be looking at him.

The one with glasses was pushing off someone who I assume is Pete (“Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, we are in public!”), the tallest one is babbling on about some college course he is going to take, the last guy already has a lot of facial hair and is arguing with Brendon on whether to shave or not. (“Bren, stop it! My beard is like my personal flower garden! I won’t cut it!”)  
The blood runs cold and the familiar race of my heart seems to be the only thing I can focus on. Everything is becoming too much. I always get nervous (that's an understatement) in these types of situations, some more than others depending on the noise and the people. I move my hands to the table bench so that I can ground myself. I don’t want to make a scene in front these guys, especially the dark haired boy next to me, so I stay silent. I can’t get up and walk away randomly, that’s just rude. And it’d be too complicated to explain. 

Suddenly, I feel another hand be placed over mine. It was gentle and careful. I look to the hand and follow up the arm, shoulder, neck and was met with deep, dark eyes. Brendon’s eyes. They look reassuring, almost comforting. He whispers to me. 

“Hey, I’ve got you. Focus on me.”

I try to tune out the rest of the group, pointing my attention to his eyes and his thumb rubbing soothing circles onto my hand. It’s like Brendon- I just- It’s pretty… odd. How did he know what to do? And why didn’t he laugh like everyone else does? 

“Good, you're okay. Breathe with me, Ross.” Brendon breathes in, holds it for a few seconds, before letting it out again. I follow suite, it's tricky at first but after a couple tries it's natural. Everything isn't too much anymore.

He gives me that dorkish grin when my shoulders relax and the corners of my lips turn up into an almost smile. He turns back to talk with his friends. I decide to take a leap of faith and lace our fingers together. Why? I don’t know, sometimes I just have no impulse. 

Brendon doesn't seem to notice, so I gently squeeze his hand.  
He squeezes back, even tighter than how I did it. A squeak escapes my lips and I feel my face burn from embarrassment. Brendon knows, he's just keeping on the down-low. I'm almost certain my face is candy apple red right now. Geez, I've fallen for this kid, and I don't know how I'll get up again.

The tall one, who I've mentally called Giraffe, turns to me. “What about you? Do you like anybody?”  
Yes. He's sitting next to me.

“No..not- Not really. I don't like anybody.” I lie through my teeth. But I have to, I just met Brendon and have no clue if he swings my way or not. Can't take a chance, better to be safe than sorry.

“I have one, sorta. I don't know if it's a crush or not.” Brendon pipes up, speaking nonchalantly; like he didn’t just give me a mental seizure. My eyes go wide and my heart drops to the floor. 

Shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! My tumblr is @blackroses-greyskies so message me there with any questions or suggestions. There will be multiple chapters but idk when the next update will be. Hopefully this/next weekend (as of April 4th).


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